Scrambled
by 20 pounds of crazy
Summary: Is this the result of Tate and Hayden's horrible mind games, or has Vivien finally lost her mind? Tate/Violet in future chapters. Read, review, enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Every single time I watch AHS, I get the feeling that I finally understand everything… Until the next episode, that is. The newest one inspired me to start writing AHS fanfiction. I have a few chapters in progress. Please let me know if I should continue. These will be short chapters, but probably not as short as the first.**

Everything was cloudy, muffled. The walls were white, barren. Vivien tried to get up from her bed, but could not. Something held her down. She turned her head violently but could not see anything but white. She could not move, could not speak.

Everything suddenly clicked into place. This wasn't her house. This wasn't the Murder House. She wasn't in her room. She was in a white room, on a white bed. Where was Violet? Where was her husband? Oh.

She remembered. They betrayed her. They did not believe her. Violet lied. The one time she needed them they weren't there. They thought she was crazy, insane. But she was terrified. The rubber man tried to rape her. And... Could she believe Hayden? It all seemed crazy, but not as crazy as the last few weeks had been.

She heard muffled voices, coming from outside the room. She couldn't focus on what they were saying, though. The medication was making it difficult.

The voices got closer. At least two men. Maybe one woman. They opened the door and walked to the foot of her bed, talking at her instead of to her.

"…_psychotic break…"_

"… _possibly paranoid schizophrenia"_

"…_post-traumatic stress disorder…"_

"… _violent hallucinations"_

"… _harmful to herself and others…"_

She remembered what Moira said about doctors, what they used to do to women. The drugs were somewhat wearing off. She yelled- it came off as a weak moan. She thrashed as hard as she could. The restraints would not budge.

Beeping noises grew louder as she struggled. They were the monitors that she was hooked up to.

"_Nurse! Prepare a syringe"_

"Noooo," she moaned. There was a sharp pain in her arm. Then, blackness.


	2. Chapter 2

Ben stood outside his wife's room as two doctors explained the situation.

"We've run some tests, but the results are not conclusive," explained the older, gray-haired doctor. "We've given her medication to calm down. It is entirely possible that she has PTSD, or maybe something more serious, like schizophrenia."

"So, basically you have nothing," he replied angrily.

"Mr. Harmon, it's only been 32 hours. This testing takes time, as I'm sure you know."

"Of course I do! But my wife deserves the best. I want results within 24 hours," Ben demanded. He looked in the room at Vivien and could not understand how things had come to this. He shook his head. "And take off the damn restraints."

* * *

><p>"I want to see her," Violet said as soon as her father returned. "This is my fault. I need to talk to her."<p>

He shook his head sadly. "That won't be possible for a while, I'm afraid. Your mother's really sick."

"She's not!" yelled Violet. "I made a mistake! I don't want her to be locked up. I want things to go back to the way they were. You've done nothing but mess everything up. I hate you" were her final words as she ran up the stairs. A few seconds later, Ben heard a thump. She locked the door.

* * *

><p>White walls. Blankness. It was so much better than <em>darkness.<em> Darkness hid secrets. Whiteness hid… nothing.

Vivien looked down at her body. Her hands were free, so she rubbed her wrists. They were raw from her… episode earlier. One arm had an IV drip and a clip on her thumb. Her arm started to feel strange. She began scratching it.

A nurse stopped her. How long had she been in there? It didn't matter. Nothing was as it seemed. One minute Vivien had a happy family. The next, she was betrayed and left alone by all.

She closed her eyes and tried to wish the bad memories away.


	3. Chapter 3

"Please let me talk to her. I need to see my wife." This was the third day in a row Ben had visited the hospital begging to talk to Vivien. He _had _to see her.

"Mr. Harmon," replied Dr. Jameson, "your wife needs a low stress environment. She has suffered a horrible psychotic breakdown and we are still trying to find the root of the problem. She needs rest. And quiet."

"I promise to not bring up anything controversial. I just want to talk to her. I'm a psychiatrist, I know how to talk to patients. If anything happens, kick me out and file a report. Please."

Dr. Jameson, the gray-haired doctor from day 1, weighed his options. Eventually he consented. Ben gave a huge sigh of relief. "I must warn you, though," he said, "your wife is on heavy medication. It is all safe for the baby, of course, but she will seem detached. If anything happens, just call. There is a nurse standby at all times. And nothing about the house, or your family, or even your friends. If even _half_ of the stories I have heard are true, there is no wonder why your wife is in this state. Remember, she needs no added stress."

Ben nodded. Dr. Jameson opened the door quietly for him and he walked in. Vivien was staring up at the wall. She was completely out of it. She didn't even notice Ben walking up to her. He sat on the side of the bed and held her hand. "Hey, Viv," he said calmly, quietly. "It's me, Ben."

* * *

><p>Vivien focused on the wall. She remembered again what Moira told her, about staring at the wall paper. She shook her head to try to get rid of the idea, but it didn't work.<p>

Her mind wandered to other topics. She missed her bed, her family. She missed Moira and Violet and even Constance and… Did she miss Ben? Yes, even him. Even though he was an ass, she missed him.

She thought about the babies and it filled her with dread. What… what were they? She heard a mumbling coming from somewhere in the room. Her breathing intensified slightly.

Someone was touching her wrist, stroking her hand. Please, she wanted to say, please stop. She tried to pull her wrist away but someone wouldn't let her. She inched over a little on the bed, away from the unwanted person. She let out a small cry and turned away.

The noise continued talking at her. It was always at her, never to her. She wanted to leave, wanted to get the hell out of wherever she was. She tried to get away, but could not. Someone was holding her down. She needed the bad to go away.

* * *

><p>Vivien was responding, but not how Ben had hoped. "Vivien, relax. It's me. You're ok here. Sh… You're ok."<p>

Dr. Jameson came in and gave her a sedative. She was asleep within seconds. "Dr. Harmon, as you can see your wife is very unstable. Our tests have concluded that she does not have a mental illness like schizophrenia or PTSD. However, she has suffered a very serious psychological break. We want to keep her here for a few days, but after that, you are free to take her home."

"We're not together anymore..." Ben mumbled, not knowing what to say, what to do. "I- I've failed her so many times in the past. I can't be responsible for her entire well-being. She's having twins. And we were going to get a divorce." He looked up to Dr. Jameson, the sorrow and fear in his face visible. "What should I do?"

He felt a reasurring hand on his shoulder. "You try."


	4. Chapter 4

**This is an elaboration of the preview for next week. I believe the term is non-parallel(?) but I may be simply not understanding. French is my first language, so I apologize for mistakes. Anyways, this story is not in order. If someone would help me with fanfic vocabulary I would greatly appreciate it! :-) **

Ben drove home in a trance. He thought about the babies, about Violet.

About Vivien.

He paid no attention to anything. Moira cooked him dinner, watching him intensely. She wished she could say something, _anything_, but remembered her curse, and remembered how men reacted to her. To Moira's relief, Ben did not even notice her, he was so distraught.

He could not bring himself to sleep in Vivien's bed. Their old bed. Instead, he grabbed a blanket and went to the couch. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p>The next day, Ben stood at the foot of Vivien's bed again. The restraints were back on, to his anger. The nurse explained that she kept picking at her IV and reacted badly to a doctor checking in on her. He saw the blood on the sheet. He sighed and shook his head slowly, sadly.<p>

After a slight panic attack, a male nurse had hurried in with a sedative. Now, she was extremely sluggish. She noticed Ben and tried to move, but soon realized that she was unable to. She started sobbing.

"Please.. please help me," she begged. "I can't stay here."

"Viv, you're OK," Ben said, stroking her hair. "Why can't you stay here?"

She turned her face into her pillow, so Ben had to listen hard to hear her response.

"They followed me here. They won't leave me alone." Her body convulsed with another series of sobs. Ben felt a huge wave of emotions pressing down on him. He could not blame anyone but himself. Because of him, they moved across the country. Because of him, they picked this horrible house. Because of him, their family was torn apart.

Because of him, his wife was insane.

* * *

><p>Vivien tried to move but couldn't. Her arms were now chained together. She felt so weak. So vulnerable.<p>

She heard laughter. She couldn't tell if it was a boy or girl, young or old. It made no difference. The voice was laughing at her, taunting her. She couldn't escape it. The single light above the bed flickered. She did not want to be in darkness.

The door violently opened and to her absolute fear Vivien saw the Rubber Man. She cried and screamed, but he came closer, and closer, and closer…


	5. Chapter 5

**This chapter is no doubt going to be weird. Bear with me, I do have a plan! Also, please review. I am open to any ideas or suggestions you have.**

She questioned her sanity as the figure came closer. Was it Hayden? Was it Ben? Was it the Rubber Man? Was it a ghost? The image kept flickering, kept advancing.

All of a sudden, Ben was sitting on the side of her bed. She let out a choked sob. She didn't want him to see her like this.

"I can't stay here."

* * *

><p>Violet was sitting with Tate on her bed. She seemed distant, and Tate called her out about it. "What are you thinking about?" he asked, kissing her neck.<p>

She sighed. "My mom. It's my fault that she's in the loony bin. I shouldn't have lied. I'm such a horrible daughter."

"No, you're not," Tate said. "This is for the best. Trust me. You can help people this way. You know, there are a lot of lost souls in this house who need help."

"I can help them, or _you?_" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "You're the one who told me to lie. I can't believe I let you talk me into this!"

"Vi, it was your decision," said Tate. "You made the right choice."

"I don't know. I miss her. Now I'm stuck here with my asshole dad. He's probably hitting on Moira by now. I hate him so much."

"At least you have a father. At least he's trying."

"What the hell is the matter with you? You used to understand me. Now, you're a total sissy. I miss the old Tate."

Tate stopped kissing her, shame and guilt flooding his thoughts. "I don't."

* * *

><p>Instead of Ben, this time a doctor came into Vivien's room.<p>

"Hello, Mrs. Harmon. My name is Dr. Richards. I'm one of the doctors in charge of your case," the man said. "How are you feeling?"

It took her a while to process the words. "I- Everything is blurry. I can't focus."

He smiled. It was a fake smile, used to reassure crazy patients. "I'm sorry. The medication takes a while to adjust to. What else are you feeling?"

"Stop trying to psychoanalyze me. I get enough of that bullshit from my husband," she said, turning her head.

He walked up to the monitors, observing. "I've decided that you do not have a mental illness. No schizophrenia, no manic depression. No post-traumatic stress disorder. You do not have the corresponding symptoms, you see. At least, the symptoms are intermittent and fleeting. One with a psychological disease would have consistent symptoms that have lasted over an extended period of time." He turned his gaze towards her. "However, something happened inside that house that triggered this reaction. I've heard stories, rumors. There is no doubt in my mind you have suffered a severe psychotic break. I have talked to your husband and we believe it is best that you go home soon. I have also talked to him about-"

"Hold on. You- you are going to send me back to that house?" Vivien asked, unbelieving. "There is no way in hell."

"Please hear me out. Ben has also agreed to stay with you until you sell the house. He is a certified psychiatrist and can help you. Until you have found a new place to live he is to watch you. Also, your security guard will be there for peace of mind. Of course, we are going to have weekly sessions, but they will be at your house. I want you on bed rest as much as possible. A low stress environment is the best thing for both you and your babies."

The entire time Vivien was shaking her head, mumbling. "No. Please, no. I cannot go back there. No… Please."

Dr. Richards plastered on another fake smile and headed for the door. "It was nice talking to you, Mrs. Harmon. Have a great day."


End file.
